CONCLUSION

1.
Life beats in solitude
In my chest, without rest.

Death does wait outside; pedantic
Hearing the sepulchral rhythm.
Ignoring the brooks of blood,
insipid, intricate veins.

Uncanny are the ways of thoughts,
Shrouded by prudence are words.
Mysterious are the feelings,
Unexplored is the future,
and the length of life.

Frivolous are the machines
For they can change nothing.

2.
My life does beat
In the grains of sand
On which I do walk everyday,
In the bed on which
My sleep lays its head everyday,
The moment my heart stops
may I be blessed then-
Not to be bound
In uncanny life supporting tubes;
Not to be under
Frozen watchful eyes.

( Dedicated to the moment when I found that the sophisticated life saving machines turn helpless when confronted with the power of destiny )